Hermione's Secret Admirer
by absorbaloff
Summary: Hermione goes back to Hogwarts to finish school after the war. She is single now. She gets a mysterious owl from a secret admirer. HG/SS I changed what I wanted to, to fit the story. Enjoy. R&R!


A/N: Thanks for the reviews and feedback. I've change the OWLs to NEWTs, since I messed that one up. Hope this clarifies. Keep the reviews coming! (I'm still new at this, and I can't improve without feedback.)

_Rated M, just to be safe._ I am not bashing any group of people, I've just been dumped by a guy cause he figured out (too late for me) that he was gay. I don't mean to offend anyone.

FYI: _Hermione's thoughts_. **_Snape's thoughts_**.

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Hermione sat in class. Not really paying attention. She knew she should be paying attention. She's tried to pay attention, but she is more distracted these days than she was before. Being Hermione, she didn't need to pay attention, she had already read the material, and could probably teach the class as well as she knew the material at this point, but she knew she was there to learn, and right now, she's wasn't

Hermione had been distracted for a few days now. Ever since she got that owl the other morning at breakfast. She was sitting alone, as she tended to do these days. Having been one of the only students to return to Hogwarts to complete their NEWT's, Hermione was the only Gryffindor to do so. She declined the position as Head Girl, opting to focus on her studies, since she was preparing to take a lot of NEWT's at the end of the year.

She'd only been back at the school for a week. She had left the burrow, happy for her friends, but sad for herself. Shortly after the final battle, she, Ron and Harry had retreated to the burrow. What she thought would be a relaxing summer developed into a personal crisis. She thought that she would be spending time with her boyfriend and their best friend. It turns out she was the third wheel. Harry and Ron spent the summer getting closer to one another, and realizing what they meant to one another. She should have realized it fourth year, when Harry had to save Ron from the lake.

So Hermione retreated back to her haven, Hogwarts. She knew that this year would be more about learning about herself than studying, but being the brightest witch in her age, Hermione knew that self discovering was just as important as book learning. Sitting at breakfast, Hermione was setting out to read the Quibbler than had just been delivered, and not a full minute after the first owl left, a second reappeared in front of the young woman. It stuck its foot at her, impatiently. Hermione stared at it for a bit, recovering from her confusion when the bird stole her piece of toast. She untied the letter from the bird, and watched it as it left the Great Hall with the last of her breakfast in its beak. She unrolled the letter and read it.

_Hermione,_

_Over the years I've watched you. I've seen you become the strong, confident woman that you are now. I'm afraid that I cannot hide my affection for you any longer. I must tell you that I am quite nervous, not knowing how you'll receive me. If you would permit me to tell you in person, I will meet you in the courtyard next Friday evening at sunset._

_Sincerely Yours,_

_Your Admirer_

_What!_ She thought. She looked around. She started to scan the house tables and no one at Ravenclaw was looking at her. No one from Hufflepuff was looking either. She turned herself to look at Slytherin, again no one. As she righted herself in her seat, she looked up to the Staff table. It had so many missing seats; it looked like it was Christmas Holidays. Headmistress McGonagall was speaking to Deputy Headmaster Snape. Aurors had discovered the Potions Master after the final battle, barely alive. It was only the magic Search and Recovery techniques that identified his body as still recoverable, no traditional muggle indications would have given him hope. His recovery progressed well during the summer months, and was let out of St. Mungo's in time for the new school year to begin. The Headmistress looked up and caught Hermione's eye, the old witch smiled. Hermione smiled back, and returned to her seat.

Hermione looked back at the note in her hand. Who could it be? The letter said over the years, which at least ruled out the younger students. Most of the older students either chose to study outside of Hogwarts, and as the site of the final battle, you couldn't blame them. That is if they survived. There were so many deaths. Many of them were students who hadn't volunteered to fight. While the Great Hall was noisy, it would never feel the same to Hermione, and the many other survivors of the war.

That note was a week ago, the time in the interim Hermione had questioned the note's integrity several times. She tried to fathom the boys who would write the note. And that was her issue. These kids at school were boys. She had seen a war. She had spent a year on the run with Harry. There had been so much she had experienced, that the few male students who stayed at school were just boys. She could never see herself with them in a serious relationship. While she'd done the one-night-stand thing (rebounding from her rejection, after Ron left her for Harry), she didn't want to use the poor boy.

She needed another female perspective on the note. She had few female friends, actually she had few friends period, but female ones were even harder to come by. She owled Luna and the two met in Hogsmeade one night to have dinner and discuss the options. Being an eighth-year seventh-year gave her some leeway with the Headmistress, and allowed her to leave the castle whenever she wished, so long as she maintained her grades.

The two young witches discussed the note, and after a few butterbeers each, and then some Fire Whiskey, the two women decided Hermione had to find out who had written the note. Their inebriated decision also included that as long as the man was not a death-eater, Hermione should have go with the man. While Hermione felt tempted to use the boy (not that she told Luna that), on that sober Friday morning, Hermione didn't know what to do, though she was quite certain it wouldn't end in a shag. She told herself the note was probably just some first-year who was awestruck by the female member of the Golden Trio. She hoped however it was a tall dark and handsome man who would sweep her off her feet, and they would end up happily ever after, not that she would tell anyone that.

Hermione was shaken from her day dreaming when Headmistress McGonagall called on her in her NEWT's Transfiguration course.

"Miss Granger, would you mind demonstrating for the class how to transfigure a fellow classmate into a deer please?"

Hermione at that point looked like a deer in headlights. She remembered having her book open to that page, but had been thinking about what would be happening to her tonight. She looked at the Headmistress with all the emotion she could muster in her eyes, to beg her way out of this demonstration.

"On second thought, Miss Granger has done many demonstrations in this class before, someone else, let's see … Mr. Donovan, you show us." Hermione mouthed a thank you to the Headmistress, who nodded, looking over the tops of her glasses at the young witch. Hermione paid attention the rest of class, and was gathering up her things to leave when the Headmistress asked her to stay behind.

"You've been aloof all week dear, what's going on?" She asked.

"I …" Hermione began. _How do I explain this one to my professor_, she thought.

"It's a man isn't it?" the professor queried.

"How did you …"?

"No need to explain. I was once a witch your age. And with your looks and fame, you must have men lined up around the corner."

"It's not like that …" Hermione tried to explain.

"I understand. Just don't let your romantic daydreams drag you away. At the wrong time, it could prove quite dangerous." The Professor stood from her desk, gesturing to Hermione that she would walk her out of the class.

"Just be careful dear. And use protection."

And before Hermione could open her mouth to argue, the Headmistress had shut the door. _Great. Just Great_. Hermione scolded herself. She wasn't even in a relationship with this man and already it was detracting form her studies. She looked at her watch. 5:30. She had enough time to grab a quick bite, drop her things back off to her room and make it to the courtyard by sunset.

She walked into the Great Hall. The Headmistress saw her come in and gave her a wink, then turned to Madam Pompfrey, whispered something in her ear. The nurse looked at Hermione and too gave her a wink. _Just great!_ Hermione shouted to herself.

She sat herself down at her usual spot with a harrumph, and put some food on her plate. She looked around again. Maybe she would be able to see someone looking at her this time. This close to the time they would meet, he was sure to be nervous himself. Ravenclaw, no. Hufflepuff, no. She turned to Slytherin, no again. She looked up to the staff table. Aside from the Headmistress and the nurse, there wasn't many staff at the table tonight. The new DADA professor was there, Professor Clarkson and a few other new ones but none of the old faces. There were fewer familiar faces after the war, which made them harder to miss. No Flitwick or Snape tonight. Hermione sighed, she still could not figure out who the boy was; she would have to wait the hour that was left until sunset.

She looked at the food she put on her plate. She pushed aside the prime rib a bit with her fork. She stabbed a potato, brought it up to her face then put the fork and potato back on the plate. She sipped her pumpkin juice then left. There were too many butterflies in her stomach, which didn't leave a lot of room for food. She headed to her room in Gryffindor Tower.

She climbed into the seventh year students' room. She threw her bag onto her bed and decided to get ready. She went to the bathroom, washed her face and brushed her teeth (the thought occurred to her that there may be a kiss or two exchanged, if it was her tall, dark and handsome man in shinning armor). She tried brushing her hair out but ended up putting it back into a ponytail. She sighed. _No time like the present_, she told herself.

Hermione left Gryffindor Tower in her muggle clothes. Outside of class, she didn't feel the need for her robes; she got stressed enough these days without adding the burden of formal attire to add to it. She methodically moved her way down the stairs, as she had done many times before, on nights that were less important than this. She walked out to the courtyard to finally meet her admirer.

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Hermione stepped out into the courtyard, the sun was hidden behind the mountains, but enough sunlight was still peaking out around them to give the sky that warm orangey-pinkish glow as it hits the clouds that dot the sky. It was still early enough in September that the nights weren't too chilly. Which was a good thing since Hermione's muggle ensemble this evening was a thin Project (RED) tee shirt from the Gap, some low-ride jeans and a pair of thongs. She crossed her arms across her chest, not to fight off the non-existent cold, but as a subconscious self-preservation method.

She knew showing up put her at a disadvantage, since she had no idea who she was meeting. The thought that this could be a prank, with some Slytherins just trying to be mean to her, it wasn't out of character, (even though post-war Hogwarts did not have the same house rivalry that it did before). What she was truly afraid of was that she might actually like the person who showed up. She was just now starting to get comfortable enough around Ron (and Harry) that she wasn't getting upset. If she fell for another wizard, she could get hurt again. So a stoic Hermione set a slow, casual pace around the courtyard, waiting for the mystery man to arrive.

The thought hit her, what if he wasn't going to show up. What if he had changed his mind and wasn't attracted to her, not enough to be in a relationship with her. She started to worry. She reached a hand down to touch the top of her wand that was in her jeans pocket. She had done an enlargement charm on the inside of the pocket, so she could put it safely inside, because as tight as her jeans were on her, there would be no place on her to hide her wand otherwise. She shuddered, like when you get a gut feeling that something is wrong, or that someone is watching. She wrapped her arms around herself again. She felt a warmth come over her. For a split second she thought that her logic had taken over and she was no longer nervous, but then logic really did kick in. She realized that someone had cast a warming spell on her. She knew then that her instincts were correct, that it was not a lower class-man, since she didn't hear the spell cast. She looked around, spinning slowly in place, not venturing to walk in one direction or another, since she still couldn't see her admirer.

Right now though, Hermione didn't feel admired as much as stalked. Someone was there, watching her. When her first sweep didn't turn up anyone, she scanned again, more carefully, looking for the faint shimmer of a disillusionment charm. There it was, in the far corner, not moving, but noticeable enough that if you were looking for it you could find it.

"I know you're there," she said to the corner, inclining her head in that direction, to inform the boy that she wasn't just guessing. She rustled up some courage and began a slow walk toward the shimmering translucent boy. As she got closer, she decided the boy must be no younger than a sixth year, since he was quite tall.

"Is there some reason you are still hidden? I obviously know you're there," she had sounded almost confident there. _That's good, _she told herself, _as long as I appear confident, he won't have the upper hand_.

"I don't want you to run … or laugh," said the disembodied voice. As he spoke, the spell began to fade.

Hermione stood just a few feet away. As the spell slowly dissolved off of him, her face began to flush a bit. He was tall, she was right about that. He had broad shoulders, dark hair; _not bad_, she thought. As the boy in front of her became clear and corporeal, she saw a smirk appear on his face.

_Seriously, _she most emphatically thought.

_**Yes**_**. **Hermione hadn't thought that. Sure enough though, the body belonging to the voice and smirk she had seen and heard were now attributed to the one man she didn't think would be in front of her.

"Professor Snape."

"Good evening Hermione," the Potions Master replied.

_Did he just blush,_ Hermione thought, as she stood rigid in her spot, as if her shoes had been welded to the ground beneath her.

_**I did. I hoped you hadn't noticed.**_

Again, his voice was in her head, though he hadn't said anything out loud.

"You've been reading my thoughts." While she didn't ask it, she did await his confirmation. He nodded the affirmative.

"You haven't run away yet." He said, as a small smirk started across his lips.

"Were you hoping that I would?"

He was confused. She had shown up, that was a good start. Then again, she could have been expecting anyone.

"No." He tried to elaborate, but his brain wasn't working quite as quickly as it should be.

"Ok." She stood there, taking him in. _Is this some kind of joke? If it is, it is not funny._

_**Do I disgust you so much that it's 'Not funny,' **_he asked her silently.

"No, that's not it." She replied quickly, and honestly (he could see the honestly on her face). "Could you stop doing that please?" She sounded a little bothered.

"Yes, whatever you ask." His eyes opened, an alarmed look flashed onto his face. She brought her head up and looked him in the eyes. A small smirk started to play on her lips.

"Why wouldn't it be funny," Snape asked her, hoping she hadn't noticed the sincerity in his voice when he admitted the previous.

"What?" She couldn't remember what had been happening, his comment had distracted her, and she had briefly been entertaining a thought in her head: The thought that he might be serious.

"You said," he began, but the look on her face made him think he should change his wordage, "Rather, you THOUGHT that you hoped this wasn't a joke, since it is not funny."

The brief upset look she had passed as she averted her eyes, looking down at the courtyard ground. It must have a jinx on it, because it very much appeared to Hermione that her thongs were definitely permanently affixed to the stone pavers.

"Hermione?"

"Severus," she began a sentence she wasn't quite sure how to complete. She looked up at him, and all the happiness in the world filled his eyes, and she realized that she had used his first name. Suddenly she felt a genuine confidence for the first time in over a week.

"I was hoping that it wasn't a joke, because this is moment is one I have day dreamed about for years," she replied sincerely. He could tell. He wasn't reading her mind, and he didn't have to, to know this. She had a small tear slowly making its way down her cheek. He took a step forward, placing the palm of his hand on her jaw line, his fingers cradled the back of her neck, and with his thumb he gently wiped away a tear.

Her breath hitched. She looked up at him. He was the man she had thought so much about since the end of the war. He was the man she had come to admire since she found out about his spying duties. The final battle had done a lot to him, but in his recovery, he had gotten a bit of sunlight, and he was no longer pale and pasty, but had a healthy glow about him. Many weekend mornings she had come back to the castle, having spent the night out with friends, and saw him running along the banks of the lake. She had admired him then. The irony of him being her admirer was not lost on her at this moment. She giggled.

He looked down at her, the smile fading into a stern look. "I thought this wasn't funny Miss Granger?"

"That's not it, SEVERUS." She emphasized his name, letting him know that they were beyond formalities at this point. "I was just thinking how I was your secret admirer, for a long time now, and neither of us realized the other felt the same."

His stern face softened. "Oh," was all he said. They stood there and his hand hadn't left her face. She was leaning slightly into his touch and let a small contented hum emanate from her chest. While he loved the comfortable feeling that was washing over them both, he had to bring up the inevitable now, before things moved any further.

"Hermione?" He left his hand travel down her arm down to her hand, which he took in his own. He held it to his lips, and let the lightest kiss brush her knuckles. He touch was so light; she could have thought she imaged the kiss that is if she didn't have her eyes locked onto his lips.

"Hmm?" That was the only response she could make. Not only were her feet stuck to the ground, she had become mute also.

"Hermione, dear," he pressed her again, hoping to get a response that implied she understood the words he was speaking.

"Mmm hmm?" Yep, mute still. A happy, stuck mute, but a mute nonetheless.

"We have to talk to the Headmistress about this before we do ANYTHING."

"WHAT?" Hermione practically shouted at him as she took several steps back quickly, taking her hand with her. She was no longer mute, stuck or happy.

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"Why?" Hermione asked Severus, at a volume much higher than their proximity required.

"Because," he carefully proceeded, at a more reasonable volume, hoping she would take the queue, "while you are not officially a student, you chose to continue you education here. As long as you attend Hogwarts for that purpose, Minerva is responsible for you."

"But," she started at the higher volume, but hearing it amongst the silence around them, she decided to proceed in a lower volume. "Firstly, I thought I was still a student here. Secondly, I'm of age, and in none of the school's paperwork, the founding charter or any official paperwork since then, has there been a rule prohibiting a relationship between staff and any student of age, so long as the student was not under instruction of that professor. And thirdly, I don't wanna tell Professor McGonagall, she'll yell at me." She had started off strong, but seemed really worried about telling the Headmistress and former head of house, and her official sounding monologue turned into a whine. "Besides, are you sure you want there to be something? I thought I was an insufferable know it all?" She chided the Potions Master, reciting his insult back at him.

He flinched slightly when he heard her recite back to him words he had never forgiven himself for.

"Ok, I'll address all these in order," he offered, in his very professional 'Professor Snape' voice. "Firstly, no. Technically, you and all your former classmates received passing grades and received all the marks and honors associated whether via owl, or posthumously. Secondly, I know how old you are, and while it is true there is no such rule, there is some decorum needed for this situation, don't you agree?" He lifted an eyebrow to her. She nodded slightly, so he continued. "Thirdly, you are the 'Golden Girl of Gryffindor,'" he recited the headline of the Daily Prophet when they did a story on the young witch. "Plus, she too recognizes you are an adult, both capable and intelligent. She will be able to understand the situation and make the best decision for your reputation as well as that of the school." _**At least I hope Minerva will**_**, **he thought. Hermione just nodded another agreement. "And finally, you are a know it all." She put her hands on her hips, looking put out. He continued anyway. "You are a smart witch. Beautiful. Powerful too. Half the wizards in Britain and many more overseas would be happy to be with you. But I couldn't let such a brave, strong and independent woman waste her life with someone else. Not when I care for her desperately."

She dropped her hands off her hips. She straightened her back, as if trying to recall that brave witch he was speaking of. That's when it caught his eye.

"Hermione, maybe we should step inside, it's cold."

"I don't feel cold. I want to talk about this."

Severus stifled a chuckle. He also blushed. "You appear to be cold. I just hope that I'm the cause of your reaction then."

It was her turn to blush. It was also time for her to beat herself up. Under her robes, Hermione never wore a bra because, well, she was endowed with magic, not breasts. While getting ready, it did not occur for her to put one on, since she normally didn't bother.

She composed herself, fighting back the blush. She was feeling cheeky, since he seemed to be in the mood to be. She stood up straight and tall, pulling her shoulder blades back and she looked him in the eye. "Yes Severus, it is because of you."

He stood there. If he had thought he heard her right, he may have passed out. There was no way that Hermione Granger, Gryffindor's Golden Girl, had said that to him.

"Uh … what?" was the most articulate thing he could come up with.

"You heard me Severus. You arouse me. I'm attracted to you. I wouldn't still be standing out here with you if I weren't. I'm interested in you. Not just as a person, as a wizard, or a Potions Master. I'm interested in a romantic relationship. A, **sexual** relationship." She of course emphasized the word sexual, if she was going to do this, she wasn't going to do it halfway, she was a Gryffindor after all.

Whatever he was going to say or do was abandoned as soon as he heard the doors to the Great Hall open and the flood of students started swarming around the school again.

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"Hey Hermione!"

"Hey Stephanie," Hermione replied, smiling and waving at the passing seventh year Gryffindor.

"Let's go somewhere private," Severus whispered as he stepped closer, gently cradling her elbow with his hand.

"What d'ya have in mind," she asked with as much innuendo as she could muster. He gulped and his eyes grew so wide they almost bugged out of his head. His mouth had become exceedingly dry all of a sudden. Hermione smiled a too innocent smile at him.

He put back on his stoic 'Professor Snape' face as he led her through the halls and down to his dungeon classroom. She had been in the room countless times. She had brewed a few hundred potions in there, over the six years she was actually at the castle. All those times she had entered the room, all the hours she spent working, and it had never felt promising. Not like it did now anyway. Her first day she was so eager, it had the promise of knowledge; a feeling that was quickly quelled by the billowing robes of the Bat of the Dungeons.

"That's not a very nice thing to call someone." He said to Hermione, having followed her through her whole line of thinking. He warded the doors as they entered and sat down on the top of a desk, so his eyes were level with hers.

"You weren't very nice," she replied honestly. "And I thought you weren't going to do that."

"Sorry." He had forgotten. In the years since he had met Hermione Granger, he had developed a habit of popping in on her thoughts, hoping to see an image of himself pop up. All he had ever seen was her mental images of books as she worked on potions, or images of her with the Weasley boy and Potter, as she walked down the halls.

She remembered what she had said to him in the cortyard and walked up to him slowly. She looked at him under half hooded eyes, doing a pretty good job of the whole seductive vibe. She could do sexy, no doubt. The lack of bra helped her too. As soon as she thought about seducing the man, the evidence of her arousal became present again, peaking through her tight tee shirt.

She watched him as he gulped again. He shifted on the desk a bit; doing a not so subtle adjustment on his pants that seemed to be getting tighter. She smiled. It only added to how sexy she looked.

"So," never had such a word held so much promise to Severus than that short little word 'so.' "You wanted to talk," Hermione reminded him, although she was still slowly waking toward him.

_**Did her hips always have that much sway to them, good gods**_?

"Um. Yes." He knew there was a reason they needed to talk, but as her svelte little body was drawing closer he couldn't remember his own name, let alone why he wanted to talk. Talking is so overrated.

She stopped about an inch before the curve of her hips would have between his legs. He let a small mew of disappointment escape when she stopped. She smiled again. His abrupt change of mood shook him out of his thoughts. He actually shook his head in an attempt to shake his thoughts into the proper order.

"Hermione."

"Present, Professor." She raised her hand and smiled.

_**Oh gods.**_ She was playing on one of the deepest male desires, at least his own. The image of the witch in her uniform, skirt riding up her legs as she sat at her seat …

He shook himself again. "Hermione, we have to talk."

"I know," she replied patiently and innocently, "you wanted to be alone with me."

"To talk."

She shrugged her shoulders, as if to say suit yourself. She went to the desk across the isle from his, and hopped up onto it, not missing that his eyes followed her chest as she moved. She caught his eyes and smiled at him.

He quickly removed his eyes from her breasts and to her eyes. Behind a bit of mischief he saw that she seriously did want to talk to him about this. That she wasn't trying to get a rise out of him, well not the only reason she was there.

"Hermione. If we want pursue a relationship, we need to approach the Headmistress. I wouldn't want to sully your good name and grades."

She looked at him now as if he had two heads. "Sully my good name? You helped save the wizarding world from Voldemort just the same as I did."

"Hermione, I was a Death Eater …"

"You were a spy!" she interrupted.

"Most people don't care. They'd rather hate me and move on with their lives. It was hard enough for them to hear that Potter and Weasley are gay. Imagine what they'd do if they found out their beloved Golden Girl was with a dark, old wizard. What do you think they'd say?"

She paused just a second as she sat up straight, her legs out in front of her, as if she were putting her feet flat on the floor, and they would have been if the desks weren't so high, or if she weren't so short.

"They'd say: 'He's not old.' 'I think he's dark and mysterious.' And, 'I always knew that Weasley boy was a little swishy,'" Hermione said with a straight face, pretending to be the different voices expressing those opinions, as if they weren't her own.

Severus smiled at her. He stood up and stepped up to her. He placed his hands on the outside of her knees, his long fingers resting on the outsides of her thighs. She made a happy hum again as he touched her and she smiled up at him.

"Do you really want to put up with all the gossip? The name-calling? The … Skeeter?" He could barely say the last word, like it was the foulest thing someone could say, and in a way it was true.

"I don't care what other people think. I can't worry about them when I'm trying to get to know you." She said it with no innuendo, yet he couldn't help think she meant something sexual about it. At least that's how he heard it anyway.

"Hermione," he started. He leaned in and she let her legs fall apart as he stood between them. He pulled her close to him, resting a hand on the small of her back, the other cradling her head.

"Yes Severus?"

"We have to talk to Minerva." He braced himself, planning on restraining the girl if necessary. She didn't move.

"Ok," she replied simply. He stared at her.

"Ok?"

"Yes. When do you want to talk to her? The sooner the better I think. That way we can get down to business sooner." He stared at her. She for a second she looked like that young witch who was scheduling her study time for her OWL's. He smiled at her.

"Business?" He asked her.

She blushed just a little bit. "This." She leaned up and kissed him. Her warm soft lips met his thin ones and applied just the softest amount of pressure as if she pressed too hard she would break him. He pressed back, slightly at first. She moaned softly at his response. That broke any will power he had previously held onto. He pulled her tightly against him, sliding her arse on the desk toward him. She wrapped her legs around his waist and her hands explored his body. She had a hand tangled in his hair, the other had moved down his back on the outside of his shirt and was now working back up on the inside along his skin.

He was doing his own exploring. While his tongue was exploring her mouth, her tongue caressing his all the way, his hands were finding Hermione's choice in wardrobe very beneficial. His hands had slid to her hips; the small tee shirt and the low-rise jeans left space for his hands to roam. One had rubbed the small of her back and hips; the other went up, playing with her shoulder blades. His hand began the slow move from her shoulder blades toward the front, not wanting to force anything with Hermione. He admired her independence and strong will, and never wanted her to compromise it for him or anyone, for any reason.

She moaned her appreciation of his actions, encouraging him to continue. He smiled into her mouth and she smiled back. He pulled a way to look at her, and found her smiling at him. Then the door rattled.

Their eyes widened. Severus called, "Who is it?"

"It's Minerva, Severus. I wanted to talk to you about something," the Headmistress replied from the other side of the door.

The couple stared at the door. "About what?" Severus ventured.

"It's personal."

"I don't want to hear about your personal life Minerva." He tried to turn the woman away.

"Not mine, yours. I want to set you up with someone."

"WHAT!" Hermione covered her mouth, a little late obviously. Akin to shutting the barn door after the horses are out. Severus shot her a look, and Hermione answered his look back with one of her own, as if it was his fault Minerva had come up with the idea.

"Severus, who's in there?" called the elderly witch. "Severus!"

Severus walked to the door, ensuring that he and Hermione were presentable. He un-warded it and let her in. Hermione sat on the stool at the desk they had just occupied. She was turned to face the door.

"Headmistress," Hermione offered as way of greeting. Whatever attempt she had given to being polite was undone by the look on her face. She looked ready to pounce.

"Miss Granger, I'm glad to find you too," she replied to the young witch. She was sincere, which confused Severus and Hermione. Severus stepped next to Hermione, trying very carefully not to give anything away, but give her some comfort by being closer. He could see her relax a bit, knowing he was by her side, not Minerva's.

"You said you wanted to 'set me up with someone'? What does this have to do with H – Miss Granger," he asked, after catching himself.

"I don't understand," Hermione commented back.

"I think the two of you should try dating. No one knows how hard the war was, except those who fought through it. You two have a lot in common, but not too much (she winked). I think it's worth a go," the Headmistress declared, as if she was setting up teachers and students all the time.

"Are you serious?" Severus asked. The question came out sincere, as he had hoped, anything-but might not do well for the impending relationship.

"Quite," was all Minerva replied with.

"I think it's worth a shot. What do you think Severus?" Hermione replied casually, as if someone had offered them tea.

"I suppose her assumptions aren't too far off the mark," Severus replied just as coolly, turning to Hermione and giving a very subtle wink.

"Brilliant. Now Hermione, since you've already technically graduated there is no big fuss, but to quell any potential parental uprising, I've decided to take you on as a Transfiguration Apprentice. This way you will continue your education, as well as act as a teaching assistant here at Hogwarts. What do you say?"

"I think that is an excellent idea. Thank you Headmistress," replied the young witch. She stood up and shook Professor McGonagall's hand.

"Hermione, when there are no students present, call me Minerva, please." Hermione nodded her approval. "We will make the announcement about your position Monday at breakfast and have a feast and ball on Friday to celebrate. I know a gentleman who would love to attend with you," she said gesturing toward Severus. "We will do the apprenticeship contract and binding spell Friday before the ball. Does that work for you Hermione?"

"Yes Head – Minerva. Thank you."

"Excellent. Now you two can go about doing whatever it was you were doing before I so rudely interrupted." Minerva winked at Hermione before she left the room.

"SHE KNEW!" Hermione shrieked!

"What!"

"She knew this whole time!"

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Severus slapped himself in the forehead with his hand. "I am, perhaps, the dumbest person in existence."

"Don't say that. I didn't realize she knew until," Hermione began before Severus cut her off again.

"She's the Headmistress," he stated, as if that answered everything.

"So?" It didn't for Hermione.

"The Headmistress, or Headmaster, has the distinct privilege of being able to intercept any school owl used for correspondence."

"You used a school owl?" Hermione's voice rose a bit there.

"I don't have an owl of my own at this point, so yes, I used a school owl."

Hermione sighed, and slumped back onto the stool.

"Well, at least she knows now," said Hermione. Something in her tone made Severus look at her. She was looking at him with what could only be described as lust, in her eyes. Just the way she looked at him made his blood flow.

She gave him a smile that was seductive enough to be considered pornographic. He closed the distance between them and pulled her up off the stool. Firmly grabbed her head and kissed her passionately. Hermione responded in kind by grinding her hips into his, rubbing against his. Severus groaned into Hermione's mouth in appreciation.

"We have business to take care of," Hermione said as she led him by the hand into his office.

~End~


End file.
